


Such Sweet Music

by TheRatcatcher



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRatcatcher/pseuds/TheRatcatcher
Summary: 30 Days of one shots featuring the love between Madame de Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza.





	1. Every Morning Just the Same

**Author's Note:**

> So I can still participate in this if I get myself caught up by today right?
> 
> Last minute entry to the 30-day Beauty and the Beast challenge! I thought this would be a fun way to get past some writer's block and practice writing this couple more. Hope you all enjoy!

Morning

“Go to the bakery and buy a loaf of fresh bread, then see if Signora Marconi has any satin for sale. Signora Ricci should be working at her husband’s shop, so I want you to go and tell her that I’ll have those aprons she wanted finished before Sunday. And I need you back here as quickly as possible if we’re to have Signorina Rossi’s dress finished by tomorrow, so no wasting time with any of your nonsense today.”

Maddalena wanted so desperately to protest at these orders. It was such a lovely day outside, and she ached to make the most out of another sleepy village morning. And, after all, she was a grown woman who should be allowed to spend the day as she so chose. But she couldn’t help but notice the tired look in the older woman’s eyes and the lines that criss-crossed across her brown face, and couldn’t find it in her heart to so openly defy her mother. Instead, she picked up a basket and put on a light shawl. “Si, Mama,” she replied. “I won’t be long.”

“And feed the chickens on your way out!” she heard as she left through the cottage’s front door.

 

As she scattered chicken feed on the ground and watched the birds peck at their meal, Maddalena pouted. This morning was shaping up to be just as dull as almost every other that she could remember. What her mother called “nonsense” were her attempts not to waste away from boredom. Ever since she was a child, she had been scolded for putting on one-woman shows in the town square for anyone that would watch or going to dress shops to try on gowns far too expensive for a seamstress to afford. If there was anything new that she hoped to experience in her day-to-day life, she could hardly count on her village to surprise her. Still, she decided as she left the chickens and made her way to the village square, today she would go about her chores efficiently for once, no matter what temptations might arise.

And oh, the temptations were so great! A carriage with a broken wheel sat outside the inn, which likely meant that a traveler with fascinating stories about life outside the small Italian village would be inside. Maddalena forced herself away from the tavern, keeping the bakery in her sights. Later one of the town’s stray dogs ran up to her, showing his pleasure at seeing her with a happy bark and a wagging tail. Maddalena only stopped to give him a bit of leftover breakfast from her pocket and a quick pat on the head, before walking away. Her heart ached to hear the poor dog whimper in hopes she would return to play. But somehow she managed, doing nothing but what she was told to do.

At last, around half-past nine, Maddalena had completed all of the duties her mother had assigned her. A loaf of bread sat snugly in her basket alongside several yards of satin, and Signora Ricci was quite pleased that her order was coming along quickly. While Maddalena knew that she should be returning home now that her chores were done, her feet carried her instead to the local bookshop. For a moment she felt guilt gnawing at her as she thought about her mother waiting for her at home, but then she considered that it usually took her twice as long to finish morning chores. By staying focused she had made excellent time, and her mother would certainly be pleased as long as she made it home before ten. What harm would it do to spend a few minutes for herself before starting a day of work?

“Buongiorno!” Maddalena called as she entered the shop door. The main room was empty at first until an elderly man entered from the adjoining room. 

“Ah, Maddalena!” The old bookseller greeted her warmly. “What can I do for you today?”

The two smiled at one another, both knowing that the question was nothing more than a formality. The shop had a respectable collection of literature, but Maddalena had no interest in storybooks. “Have you any new sheet music?” she asked.

The old man’s friendly smile faded a bit. “I’m afraid I haven’t anything new for you today,” he said regretfully. “I could lend you something you already know, perhaps.”

“Yes please,” Maddalena replied, disappointed but not wanting to waste her little detour. The bookkeeper handed her some sheet music, yellowed with age and tattered at the edges. Maddalena knew this aria by heart, but still her heart leapt with excitement as it always did whenever she had a chance to sing. Closing her eyes, she pictured herself in a shimmering gown standing before a crowd of people. Instead of rows of books, she pretended the room was filled with rows of seats, each one occupied by someone more eager than the last to hear her voice. Then she began to sing for her phantom audience. Her voice tiptoed softly over the words as instructed by the pianissimo written below the stave, although she daringly went a bit louder on a few notes. For several minutes she left village life behind, and could imagine that she was a glamorous diva in a bustling city.

When she finished the aria and opened her eyes, she was startled to see not only the bookseller but also another man in the room with her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that the door to the adjoining room was open, and reasoned that this man must have been in there earlier. The stranger was dressed in a suit more beautiful than anyone in the village owned, and his hair was tied back in a simple yet fashionable style. He would have been good-looking if not exactly handsome, but at that moment he looked more like a fish with his mouth hanging open and hiss eyes bulging a bit.

The bookseller looked a bit embarassed as he turned to the stranger. “Ah, forgive me, Signore. I didn’t mean to forget about you back there.” He quickly began to make introductions. “Maddalena, this is Maestro Giovanni Cadenza. He’s on his way to Siena from Florence, but a mishap with his carriage has him stuck here for several hours. We met outside the inn this morning and I offered to show him my humble music collection. Maestro, this is Signorina de Garderobe. She’s quite a music lover herself.”

Maddalena waited for this gentleman to greet her now that they were properly introduced. She expected a respectful how-do-you-do, and perhaps for him to politely kiss her hand. Instead he spoke very quickly and fired questions at her without taking time to breathe. “Where did you study music? Certainly not Florence or we would have crossed paths, yes? Or Paris? Were you trained in Paris? Your surname is French, isn’t it?” He stopped a moment to take a breath, and only then noticed Maddalena staring at him in surprise. His expression turned sheepish and he gave her a small bow. “Mi scusi, I don’t mean to be so rude. It’s just that I don’t recognize your name, and I’ve met a great many sopranos that work in Florence. And you sing so beautifully…”

Maddalena lowered her eyes as a warm blush rose to her cheeks. “You are very kind to say so, Signore,” she said. “I haven’t had any formal training, you see, I’ve never left this village. I used to take lessons with an opera singer who wanted to retire in the countryside.”

“God rest her soul,” the bookseller said solemnly. Maddalena and the maestro jumped, each having forgotten that there was another person in the room.

“Tell me,” the maestro said, brushing the bookseller aside and approaching Maddalena with an intense look in his brown eyes. He pointed at the sheet music still in Maddalena’s hands. “What do you think of this composer?”

“Flavio Venturi?” Maddalena thought for a moment before meeting the maestro’s animated gaze. She found that she was excited to discuss music with an actual composer, and one that seemed so interested to hear what she had to say. “This shop doesn’t have all of his pieces, but I enjoy much of what I’ve been able to read of his work. Although his arias aren’t terribly adventurous.”

Cadenza looked almost ready to jump for joy. “Exactly! It’s as if he is afraid of what the human voice can do. If one could take his pieces and give them a little more gusto…” He wrung his pale hands together in despair. “Ahimè, if only there were a harpsichord in here. I would love to demonstrate for you.”

Maddalena nodded. “I think I know what you mean,” she said before taking in a deep breath and shutting her eyes. She sang the aria again, beginning softly as the sheet music dictated. This time, however, she began playing more with tempo and bringing the notes up to a powerful forte. At the end of the piece she took the last note and brought it up to a high A, complete with a controlled vibrato.

She opened her eyes to an elated Maestro Cadenza gazing back at her in awe. “Bravissima,” he said reverently, his smile displaying crooked teeth under his dark mustache. His lopsized grin was infectious, and Maddalena couldn’t help but smile back.

It seemed that this sleepy village morning had given her a surprise after all.


	2. Caught

The couple stumbled into the dark room, stopping for a moment to make sure they were the only ones awake. Both were a bit tipsy on fine wine and the leftover thrill of performing for an audience. They had shared a carriage from the duke’s summer gala to the luxurious apartment, and after hours of longing glances and whispered promises they were at last locked in a passionate embrace.

“Darling, please,” Garderobe gasped as she felt warm lips and the thick brustles of a mustache against the place where her chin met her neck. “You know that if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to keep quiet.”

“The last thing I’d ever want you to be is quiet, cara mia,” Cadenza muttered against Garderobe’s brown throat. This admission, perhaps more than the magic he was working on her body, drove her to take his face in her hands and kiss him soundly on the mouth.

“But what if _he_ hears us?” she asked when they finally broke for air. “You know how jealous he gets…”

Her lover placed his right hand over her left, which was still cradling his right cheek. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Garderobe looked concerned. “You say that now. But what will you say if he wakes up and sees us…”

The end of her sentence trailed off as she foolishly met the man’s gaze. His rich brown eyes held so much love for her, so much desire, that all thoughts of being caught vanished. She kissed him again, pulling him closer with the lapels of his coat. When he wrapped his arms around her in response, she moved her hands up to his gold cravat and slowly undid the knot.

Minutes later the two were sprawled across a sofa, clothing disheveled and paying little heed to keeping quiet. Cadenza had tossed his wig to the floor but Garderobe kept hers on, not wanting to interrupt their time together by taking out the countless pins that kept the blonde curls in place. Neither could moan or cry out in response to the sensual touches they exchanged, as their lips hardly ever left each other’s. They may have gone the whole night without being detected, if not for Cadenza’s decision to reach beneath the diva’s skirts and brush his hand against a ticklish spot on her thigh. With a soft squeak, Garderobe kicked her leg out in reflex and her foot made contact with a music stand placed a little too close to the sofa. The heavy metal object tilted before toppling to the floor with a loud clang that caused the lovers to sit up in horror. 

For a long moment the two were frozen in each other’s arms. In the silence they both strained their musically trained ears for any sound to indicate that they had been caught. When they heard nothing, Garderobe dared to whisper into Cadenza’s ear: “Do you think we woke him?”

Before Cadenza could say anything, the couple got their answer. A noise from the corner of the room made them turn their heads. Even in the dark, the familiar sound of footsteps told them that their tryst would have to pause. Cadenza swore softly under his breath as the footsteps came closer and closer, until they came to a stop right in front of the couple.

“Oh sweet thing,” Garderobe pled, hoping to avoid a scene. “Dont be upset. The party ran late, and we were just about to give you your goodnight kisses…”

In response came the loudest, most pitiful howl ever to come from a little lapdog. Froufrou cried his little heart out, whimpering like a baby until Cadenza leaned down to pick him up. “There there, you missed Mama and Papa tonight, didn’t you?” he cooed. The little dog was mollified a bit from being picked up, but still fussed and thrashed about until Garderobe and Cadenza spent several minutes showering his furry head with kisses and rubbing his tummy. They pampered and smothered Froufrou with their affection until the dog decided they were forgiven for neglecting him that evening.

The clock read quarter to two in the morning when at last the room was quiet again. Garderobe and Cadenza’s laps acting as a bed for their snoozing puppy, who could stretch his little body quite far for such a small dog. “If we’re quiet, I can pick him up and put him in his basket,” Cadenza whispered to his wife as he slowly tucked his hands under the sleeping dog.

Garderobe protested. “Oh, but he looks so sweet and comfortable!” She scratched the pup behind his ears with her manicured nails, and Froufrou squirmed happily in his sleep. “Let’s not disturb him.”

The maestro would have protested, eager to continue where they had left off before their interruption, but he had to agree that Froufrou looked terribly content now that at last he was in the arms of his Mama and Papa. _When the next party comes,_ Cadenza thought to himself as his wife yawned and rested her head against his shoulder, _we will have to bring our jealous little baby with us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *breaks down the door* Still in the game!!  
> It's always a great sign when you're two days behind in the prompts on day 4. But I will finish this challenge!


End file.
